Page 62 of Call You Mine
Hanging my keys up on the hook next to Georgie’s backpack, I slip off my sneakers and set the unassembled packing boxes against the wall before heading into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I know it’s kind of early for dinner, but I was thinking we could order p?—”
My words get caught in my throat when I find Georgie isn’t alone.
“Anderson?” He’s dressed in khaki cargo pants and a black crewneck with the Northshore Fire Department’s logo,seated next to Georgie at the dining room table. Her homework is out in front of her as the two turn to look at me.
“Hey, love,” Anderson drawls, a small smile on his face when he sees me. That stupid pet name is like a reset button to my brain, immediately making me forget everything I’ve had on my mind since leaving my mom’s house. “Did you get all your errands done?” he asks with his kind eyes and lazy smirk, looking at me like he actually wants to know. He must know that “errands” are what I told Georgie I was doing, and I’m thankful he goes along with my cover story—again.
I left her stuff in my car since we’re moving into Anderson’s the day after tomorrow. It seemed silly to haul it up here just to pack it all up and bring it to his house on Sunday.
But I hate the thought that we’ll be packing it up and moving it all over again in just a few months—now with my mom wanting to give up her parental rights, the adoption is going to move much quicker than I initially thought, more so with Patricia being so on board with my ability to be a long-term, stable, permanent guardian.
Who’s about to enter a happy, committed, loving marriage.
Too bad it’s all for show.
“Yeah, we’re all good,” I offer, the answer enough for Georgie, who goes back to her homework. Anderson, on the other hand, lifts a brow, as if he doesn’t take that as enough of an answer, as if he’s asking me ifI’mgood.
I let my eyes fall closed for a moment, giving him a nod that I hope conveys I’m good—or at least as good as I can be right now.
When I open my eyes, I watch Anderson stand up, closing the distance between us. I’m immediately overwhelmed by the warmth he radiates. He stops just a foot away from me, but it’s like I can still feel the heat from his skin, even through the layers of our clothing.
His brown hair looks more styled than usual, like hehasn’t been running his hands through it. His caramel eyes are filled with concern, andsomethingI still can’t put my finger on. It’s like he’s watching me with a sense of longing, which can’t be right, but it still causes a flutter in my stomach.
He closes his hands into fists, and for a moment, I think he might reach for me.
And I think I might let him.
Something about the weight of today has me feeling like my limbs are heavier than usual, like it’s taking an immense amount of work just to stay standing. It’s only just past four o’clock in the afternoon, but I feel like I could fall asleep for the rest of the night—maybe even sleep through all of tomorrow.
There’s an exhaustion that’s been settling over me this last week, one I’ve never felt before. And coming home, after such an emotional day, falling into Anderson’s arms, sounds like heaven.
But then he pockets his hands, and it’s like a bucket of cold water over my head.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
Anderson runs a hand through his hair, messing it up a bit, and it looks so much better that way. “I didn’t want to leave Georgie here alone, so we’ve just been hanging out, getting to know each other.”
“Well,” I say, clapping my hands together, walking past Anderson and sitting down in the chair he just got up from. “I’m home now. Thanks again for getting Georgie from school,” I say, hating the dismissal in my voice but knowing it has to be this way.
I will forever be in debt to Anderson for agreeing to marry me, all to help with Georgie’s adoption, but that doesn’t mean we can blur the lines between us.
Calling him for a favor, to pick up Georgie, cannot be a regular thing. The same way that I can’t get used to coming home to him after such a long day.
Because he won’t always be there.
“No worries. I was happy to do it,” Anderson says, his weight shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. “Georgie and I were able to get to know each other a little more.”
Georgie looks up from her homework and nods. “Anderson said I get to pick out my bedroom color at his house.” She says it like it’s no big deal, but I can hear the way she tries to hide her excitement about it, the way teenagers do. “As long as I help him paint,” she adds, a small smile on her face as her gaze goes back to her math homework.
“Really?” I say, turning to Anderson, lifting a brow.
Anderson grins as he runs a hand through his hair again. “Really,” he replies before coughing into his fist. “Anyway, I, uh, better go.” He juts his thumb toward the door behind him.
“Yeah,” I say, but the atmosphere grows awkward. “Thanks again.”
“Wait,” Georgie says, turning to Anderson. “I thought you were going to stay and help us pack.”
Anderson’s eyes dart to me, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “I don’t want to overstep, but yeah, I’m happy to help. I can bring some stuff over to my place tonight, too.”
